


It's Friday I'm In Love

by ThroughTheTulips



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Airport AU, Airports, Family Issues, Good Parent Dean Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mostly silly stuff you guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-01-03 17:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12151827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroughTheTulips/pseuds/ThroughTheTulips
Summary: Castiel is a Senior Gate Agent. Dean works at the airport bar. They pretty much never come into contact with each other- until this week.





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> What am I even doing, I have other stories to work on. Why did my brain make this?

“Sexy Bartender’s having a bad day.”

Castiel kept his eyes on the screen. The next flight started boarding in five minutes and someone had put unassigned minors in an exit row. “Clearly the world is ending.”

“No, really,” Gabriel insisted. “I think he’s been crying.”

That got Castiel’s attention. He looked up as the man passed his desk, head down and missing his usual swagger. It was hard to tell, but there might have been a little red around his eyes. “Maybe he’s hungover.”

“He’s never come in hungover before,” the other man said. He stared unabashedly, chin propped on his hands. “So that would still mean a bad day. I should check on him.”

Castiel moved both kids to a freshly-made opening in the third row. “You should check if the plane is ready so we can board on time.”

His brother made a face and sauntered off down the jetway. Castiel went back to sorting passengers, but he couldn’t help watching Sexy Bartender walk away. The man really did look upset.

Sexy Bartender had been a source of interest since he’d transferred from Omaha last month. There wasn’t much employee turnover at this airport, not in the areas behind security. Companies were pretty keen to keep people so they didn’t have to pay for more background checks than absolutely necessary. Given that, Castiel knew most of the people on his side of the airport at least by reputation. Sexy Bartender, though- the man was a mystery. His vest and bowtie told them he worked at the bar by Gate 26, and judging by the way he flirted with everything that moved he was at least bisexual. Other than that the rumor mill knew next to nothing about him. He deflected personal questions, even to the people he took home. (Well, the people who claimed he’d taken them home. The man himself was very discreet.)

Now here he was, obviously coming off either a crying jag or a late night. Castiel wondered whether he should take lunch at the bar to check on the guy.

“Bad news, Cassie,” Gabriel said behind him. “The incoming pilot called Maintenance to check something in the cockpit. We’re going to be delayed at least fifteen minutes.”

His voice carried into the waiting area. Castiel gave his brother an annoyed glare as alarmed passengers crowded towards his desk. “You’re going to have to learn to keep your voice down,” he muttered before turning a reassuring smile on the first passenger. It was almost an hour before he had a spare moment to breathe.

Sexy Bartender slipped his mind entirely.

 

Four hours later Castiel was dozing in the employee lounge when someone cleared their throat in front of him. He blinked up at Sexy Bartender in confusion. “How did you get in here?”

The man gave him a lopsided grin. “I do work here. Dean, from Brews Brothers.”

Dean. Of course Sexy Bartender had a cool guy name. “Well, Dean from Brews Brothers, I work a double today with three hours between. If I don’t sleep at least two of those I’m likely to be fired for strangling a passenger, so if you don’t mind…?”

“Sorry to wake you, man, but you’re kind of…”

Dean made a strange gesture towards the chair. Or rather- a jacket on the chair. A butter-soft leather jacket that Castiel had flopped down on and was now snuggling under like it was his own personal blankie. Mortified, Castiel sat up and practically threw it at Dean. “I’m so sorry, I have no idea- I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t worry about it,” the man said soothingly. He swung the jacket in a practiced arc, sliding his hands in almost absent-mindedly and shrugging his shoulders to settle it. The movement did all kinds of things for Castiel’s competence kink. “I would’ve let you sleep, but I left my keys in here.”

“You should be more careful. Someone could have stolen your car.”

The sleep-deprived honesty made Castiel wince, but Dean half-smiled. “Yeah, I’m not usually so careless with her. I just- kind of a bad night, you know? Didn’t have my head on straight today.” He glanced at the clock. “Get some sleep, Cas. See you around.”

It wasn’t until later, halfway through explaining to a woman why she couldn’t demand a service dog be pulled from her flight because her Siamese kitten might be scared, that he realized Dean had known his name.


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's had a long, long day. Two of them. All he wants is a stack of waffles and enough coffee to ensure he doesn't drive off the road. 
> 
> He doesn't often get what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I totally didn't abandon this fic. It's still coming... slowly.

There was an IHOP outside the airport where Castiel liked to go after a late shift, when he was starving but the terminal restaurants were closed. They had surprisingly good coffee. He dragged himself through the doors just after five, intending to cram enough breakfast down his throat that he could sleep through lunch.

A wall of noise woke him. The normally quiet restaurant was packed with what looked like a hundred hyperactive teenagers in school uniforms. Castiel stopped in dismay. There didn’t seem to be an empty table in the whole place. He rubbed his face, trying to remember where the nearest coffee shop was.

“Hey, Cas. Over here.”

He looked around to find Sexy Bartender- _Dean_ , he reminded himself- waving from a side booth. A coffee pot and a pair of cups sat in front of him. Castiel wasn’t in the mood for company, but he also wasn’t in any shape to drive before he’d had at least two cups of coffee. He slid into the open side of the booth. “Thank you. It isn’t normally this crowded.”

Dean flipped over the extra mug and filled it. “Couple school buses pulled in about fifteen minutes ago. I think they have an early flight. You look dead on your feet, man. Are you just getting off from yesterday?”

“I am,” Castiel admitted. “I should have been off at three, but my replacement was late. Were you expecting someone?”

“Nah, this table was set when I got here. Go ahead, fortify yourself. It might be a while before the waitress escapes from the Breakfast Club.”

The coffee smelled divine. It tasted better when Castiel gave in and drank it. They sat in amicable silence. Dean was texting, face scrunched in concentration. He put it down with a heavy sigh. Castiel lost a silent argument with himself. “Is everything all right?” Green eyes flicked up, startled, and he added, “I’m not trying to pry, but this is the second day I’ve seen you looking so… upset.”

“You usually keep track of how I look, Cas?”

He ignored the reflexive flirtation (though _wow_ , that smile should be a controlled substance) but admitted, “My brother is somewhat obsessed with you, yes. He calls you Sexy Bartender.”

Dean let out a surprised laugh. “Well hell, I can’t be offended by that. Tell him I said thanks for the compliment. Your brother is Gabriel, right? From the Delta counter?”

“How do you know that? How do you know my name, for that matter? Though it’s Castiel, not Cas.”

“That’s an angel’s name.” Dean caught his eye and smiled, slow and suggestive. “A guy who comes to work with bedhead every day is no angel.”

The surge of raw attraction stole Castiel’s breath for a moment. When he could speak again he said, “You’re very distracting, Dean Winchester. If you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you, that’s perfectly fine. I merely wanted to help.”

Dean glanced at his phone. The flirty smile slid off his face, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. “I don’t want to lay all my crap on you, man.”

“If I minded, I wouldn’t have offered.”

The other man fiddled with his cup. After a moment he spoke. “I, uh, heard about you. Word is you took in your brothers and sisters when your dad left.”

Castiel cocked his head, wondering where this was going. “Actually, my brothers and I took charge. Michael lives in California with his wife, but he sends money back every month while Gabriel and I take care of the flock.”

“Katie over at the gift shop says there’s five of them.”

“That’s right. Anael, Ezekiel, Hael, Inias, and Samandriel. Anna graduates high school this year, Samandriel is starting middle school. Is that a problem?”

A harried waitress stopped at the table. Dean flipped back into charming mode, pulling the carefree flirt on like a mask. When she carried their waffle orders off to the kitchen he slouched down into his seat. “Me, too.”

“You too?”

The man made a complicated gesture with his hand. “I have- that’s why I moved here.” He took a shaky breath, let it out in a huff. “My, uh, dad. He died a couple months ago. We hadn’t seen him since he skipped out on my high school graduation. I sweated out another couple years forging his signature to keep Sammy out of the system. Then we get this invitation to his funeral. Afterwards this social worker showed up and told me he left me his kids. He was up here in fucking Minnesota with a brand new family the whole time.”

Sympathy made Castiel reach out, touch his hand. “That must have been a shock.”

“It was something, all right,” Dean snorted. He took an overlarge sip of his coffee, not seeming to notice the heat. “I’m trying my best, man, but these kids… I don’t know what Dad said about us, but they hate me. Last night I just- it was just too much, you know?”

Castiel thought back to the early days after his stepmother’s death: late nights, frantic mornings, the increasingly bitter arguments before Luke finally left. He impulsively squeezed Dean’s hand. “How old are your siblings?”

Dean raked his free hand through his hair. “Adam,” he said as though the name was in a foreign language. “And Jake, they’re twins. Ten. Then there’s a girl, Kristen, who’s five. Sam’s got a few applications in with law firms here, he’s coming to help as soon as he finds something.”

“And you’re… on your own? No partner?”

It was an awkward question. Dean answered anyway. “I was seeing someone before I moved, but it wasn’t serious enough for her to move.”

From the downward twitch of his mouth, Castiel guessed that Dean, at least, had thought it serious enough. He drank his coffee, trying to think what else to say. In the end he went with, “Do you want to talk about what happened last night? I can assure you I have a sympathetic ear.”

Dean smirked, the flirty mask starting to form again. He dropped it when Castiel arched an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t mind? You were pretty beat when you came in here, you probably want to chow down and vamoose.”

He did. He really, really did, but also… Dean had taken in the children his father abandoned him for. Everyone at the airport thought he was utterly allergic to commitment, and in reality he was doing something so huge and selfless that it made Castiel’s heart ache. Castiel refilled both their cups. “With this crowd it will take at least an hour to get my breakfast and eat. If someone doesn’t talk to me I’m likely to fall asleep in my coffee.”

The open gratitude and relief on the other man’s face told him he’d made the right choice. Dean leaned forward, hands gesturing as he launched into a story involving a last-minute science project, four jars of jelly, and a poorly timed social worker visit. Castiel listened, asking questions where it seemed wanted but mostly just letting the other man vent.

Dean slowly unwound enough to ask Castiel about his family. They traded the kind of broken-childhood stories that usually took years of friendship to share, mostly because Dean was too stressed and Castiel too tired to censor themselves.

It was… nice. Cathartic, even. Castiel couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this frank with anyone except Gabriel.

Eventually, though, no amount of coffee could keep Castiel awake. He kept almost dropping off into his sticky waffle plate until Dean pushed it out of the way. “That’s it,” he said. “Up you go, Sleeping Beauty, I’m driving you home.”

Castiel batted ineffectually at the strong arm helping him stand. “I can handle it. I had two cups of coffee.”

“You had half the second cup and bitched that it was cold,” Dean corrected. “Come on, let me help you. You wore yourself out giving me the first grown-up conversation I’ve had in like, months. Letting you fall asleep at the wheel would be a pretty shitty way to repay you.”

Pride warred with exhaustion for a moment. He did have to pick the kids up from after-school activities in about ten hours, so… “Fine.” Then, grudgingly, he added, “Thank you, Dean. I live twenty minutes south, though.”

The man waved that off. “It’s fine. I’ll put your address in my GPS and you can nap there.” Which was a good plan. A sensible plan. It was definitely what adults would do.

So of course, Castiel fell asleep the moment he leaned back in Dean’s ridiculously beautiful classic Chevy.


End file.
